Aftermath
by Bonzo the Fifth
Summary: What happened after Buu was destroyed? I don't think that was the end of the story. It's hard to describe, though, which means you should read it... NOW! ;-) (note 8-7-04- I'm back, now, after a long haitus. Review and let me know you care... :-)
1. Stopping the madness

It was a quiet evening in Satan City as Gohan, in the guise of the city's hero, The Great Saiyaman, flew about on a nightly patrol.  Taking his eyes from the bustling city streets, Gohan looked up into the evening sky, the brightest stars cutting through the city's electric glow.  The view was much better from his own home, far from civilization, where city lights didn't drown out the Galaxy's light show, but he still loved it, nonetheless.  

Recent events had caused him to appreciate everything recently, actually.  Having the planet annihilated before your eyes (just before you went up with it), and then having it restored gave one an appreciation for the present, and the things you loved.  Thankfully, everything worked out in the end, though, and, once again, the Dragon balls had saved the day…

_And they'll never know about it...  How close they came to being completely wiped out…  Tomorrow was the big day:  When they would call the Earth's Dragon balls to help wipe the planet's memory of Majin Buu.  Gohan wasn't entirely comfortable with the plan, but he also understood the burden of trying to deal with your own death and resurrection.  It still gave him the willies thinking about it, and he'd been dealing with it in one form or another all his life.  To imagine what it was doing to the (mostly) ignorant masses below was frightening…_

Gohan, or rather Saiyaman, heard something, then.  He didn't have super hearing (he wasn't Superman, after all), but the antenna in his helmet were tuned to all the citizen and police bands, so he could hear if the cops were dealing with an emergency.  Right now, he was hearing about a bomb threat at Satan Plaza, the social center of the city.

_Funny, I thought we only wished the good people back to life Gohan thought as he descended to the square, on top of an overlooking building, remaining inconspicuous in the shadows for the time being, checking out the situation.  Funny, in the first days of his donning the Saiyaman suit, it had been his MO to simply barge in and let his natural strength and relative invulnerability take care of anything that came up.  Now that his battle instincts were honed from the incidents of the last few weeks, he was approaching this seriously, assessing things before barging in.  He could see Videl already there, talking to the guy.  Straining his ears, he could hear her speaking in a soothing tone.  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see police officers quietly shuffling people away from the square, a few at a time, so as not to get the bomber's attention.  Aggravated by his inability to hear what was going on, and deciding not to reveal himself for fear of aggravating the situation, Gohan fiddled with the side of his helmet._

_C'mon, I know Bulma put a directional microphone in here somewhere… he thought as he groped around the side of his helmet.  He found the button, and a high pitched squeal caused him to nearly fall off the building.  Calibrating it, he could hear Videl and the bomber clearly now, just over the amplified murmur of the crowd…_

"…can't think like that."

Videl speaking, Gohan realized, a blush rising to his face.  Not long after Buu was destroyed, at a private celebration at the Son home, Gohan had made his feelings clear in front of everyone, and she had reciprocated.  They'd had little chance to do much since, though, as it seemed every day now boded some new insanity in the world.  

"Why not?  I know there's another existence beyond this, one that might be better than here.  It's not like anyone's really going to die.  We'll just be… different.  Yeah, different, and everlasting.  Who wouldn't want to live forever?"

"That's not the point, sir.  We'll have all eternity to do that.  What about this life?"  Videl pleaded.

"What about it?"  The man cried, on the verge of tears.  "I remember that place, don't you?  I remember feeling warm, protected, and with the feeling that everything would be OK, you know…" at this point, his voice began to break.  "…I've had such a lonely life.  I want out of it.  And I know I'm not the only one.  I'd be doing these people a favor…"

While they had not wished the truly evil back to life, there were many grades between good and evil.  Not to mention evil and insanity.  Many had pulled stunts in the last few months, some of which had endangered many lives.  Saiyaman had managed to stop the worst of them, with Videl taking care of most of the smaller crises, but, in the end, they were only two people.  Every day, there had been some act caused by someone who couldn't accept the fact that they were dead, or worse, that they were alive again.  Mostly suicides by people who thought the Other World was better than this one, but sometimes, they went farther, like this guy.  These were never easy.  Thankfully, it would be over, tomorrow, Gohan thought, getting ready, in case this went bad.  He slowly began to gather energy.

"Sir, it's not your place to judge what's best for these people."  Videl said in her most compassionate voice.  This was getting tiresome, she thought, as it seemed she'd been through this same scenario a dozen times in the last month alone.  Only eight, actually, but it felt like a dozen.  She could see now why Gohan and the others had never been public about what they knew:  About ki, about aliens, about the afterlife.  People in general just couldn't handle it.  

When she'd first gotten the whole story from Gohan, in those first few days after her resurrection, she'd been angry.  How dare this group keep from the world what they knew!  Beans that could cure any injury, balls that could grant wishes, super powered aliens that have lived among us for decades.  Think of the good that could be done with the things they had.  She'd told him so, too, very loudly, angry with the injustice of it all…

Gohan had simply smiled.  It wasn't his usual, innocent smile, but a haunted, knowing one.  He'd done a lot of those since she'd met him again.  He'd changed, somehow, and not just physically.  His mind seemed as hardened and developed as his body now, not as innocent as it once was.  His next words had haunted her…

"Great good can be done with this, Videl," he'd said, quietly.  "But so can great evil.  We have to be careful who knows the true secrets of the world we live in.  There's no greater tool, or weapon, than knowledge."

And that was that.  Gohan refused to speak anymore that night.  She'd pondered on that the last few months, as time and again, she'd come to terms with the fact that, while evil seemed to have vanished for the time being, insanity was making a good attempt at filling in.  People, by and large, just couldn't handle what they knew about life and the afterlife.  She'd had a hard time accepting it herself, and she'd had Gohan to explain things for her.  When the suggestion was made that people be made to forget what happened, she'd been quite vocal in her objection.  People can't just have things like that decided for them.  Give them time.  Let them come to terms with it, she'd said.

She'd been wrong.

She'd dealt with twelve of these in the three or so months since Majin Buu.  Not all of them involved bombs.  One crazy had even tried to poison the city's water supply.  Thankfully, she'd thwarted him before he'd succeeded.  Gohan had had to stop a government official who'd tried to unload weapons of mass destruction on the world.  'To bring back harmony', he'd said.  It had been more than three months now, and things still weren't getting better…

People couldn't cope.

"You just have to make it day by day, sir, just like we did before this happened.  Just one more day, that's all I'm asking of you, sir.  You don't want to do this…"

Just as she finished this, she felt a familiar feeling… inside her.  She wasn't used to the concept of ki detection just yet, but she could tell Gohan was nearby, powering up in case he was needed.  She smiled to herself, glad to see that he was letting her handle this instead of taking it himself.  Of course, this was out of hers and Saiyaman's elements.  Give her a bad guy, and she'd beat him up, but this?  Diplomacy wasn't one of her strong suits, she felt, but the city looked to her as a hero, and heroes could do anything, couldn't they?

She sighed, hoping the bomber didn't catch her momentary lapse.  He hadn't.  He was simply staring down, completely off guard.  She seriously thought about simply using her quick movements to disarm the guy, but that might have put the crowd in danger, in the off chance she didn't get to him in time.  Instead, she began moving closer, slowly, so as not to alarm him.  As she neared him, he raised his head.  Reaching into his pocket, she tensed, feeling Gohan doing the same thing.  

"Perhaps I don't have to do this to them," he said, gesturing to the crowd.  "But I'm doing it to myself."  Pulling his other hand out, he drew a gun, and began to raise it.  Fearing the worst, Videl put all of her energy into speed.  Suddenly, to her, the world seemed to slow, except for Gohan, who was moving in quickly from the corner of her eye.  Ignoring the world, she lunged for her target, grabbing the gun, and pulling it from the man's hand, knocking it over.  Saiyaman also arrived at that point, and took away the man's bomb trigger.  Suddenly, the world sped up again for Videl.  Looking behind her, she saw the bomber, standing in shock at the two heroes who'd disarmed him in less than a split second.  Finally, after a moment, he fell to his knees and began to weep.

The police finally moved in, taking him into custody.  Knowing police procedure, but just to be sure, Videl whispered to the commissioner, "Keep him under suicide watch tonight.  If you can keep him until the morning, he should be OK, I think."

Gohan was suddenly by her side.  In his normal voice, thankfully, not the fake Saiyaman one, he asked her, "Videl, are you ready to call it a night?"

"Sure.  I think we've seen the worst of it today," and with that, they took off…


	2. Where the Stars meet the Sky

*First of all, I'd like to thank those who expressed interest in this story so far.  I'm extremely flattered that it seems liked.  Hopefully, I can keep this up ;-)*

Since I didn't put it in the first chapter, let me say I own nothing of DBZ.  A few movies, some taped episodes, and a copy of Budokai, but that's about it.  Thank you…

Now, without further ado…

Chapter 2

Where the Stars meet the Sky

            They flew in silence for a while, general weariness setting in for both the city's saviors as they neared the end of what they hoped would be their last late night for a while.  Eventually, Gohan slowed down his flight.  Videl slowed as well, turning back.  She smiled as Gohan worked the helmet off his head, sporting a smile she hadn't seen in what seemed a long time.

            "Hey Videl, you want to see something?"

            "Sure…" she said hesitantly, not too sure what he was planning, but thinking it couldn't be any stranger than what he'd already revealed.

            "Follow me," and, with that, he bolted straight up.

            Videl struggled to keep up.  Flying was still relatively new to her, but she was improving.  Now she'd learned to manipulate ki to help buffer the wind screaming around her, keeping it from blowing in her face and stinging her eyes as badly.  It helped her to reach speeds that birds and some small aircraft would envy now.  Not as good as Gohan, but she was improving…

            He vanished into the clouds above.  She followed suit, a little scared once she found herself enveloped by the darkness, but, adding speed, she tore through the heavy cloud in seconds.  The view awaiting her was breathtaking… along with the atmosphere.  She struggled to calm herself, to breath deeply and evenly in the thin air; difficult, but not impossible.  Once she got her bearings, she looked around, marveling at the sight of bright stars in a perfect sky.  Searching for Gohan, she drifted toward him, whispering, so as not to break the mood…

            "Amazing.  Is this what it looks like from your house?"  Quietly, he replied.

            "Not quite.  The air is thinner up here, so the stars don't twinkle as much, and you can make out some of the fainter ones a bit better.  If you stood on the Lookout, though, the view's pretty much like this.  I like to come up here sometimes.  Sort of a getaway, I guess…"

            _And he's sharing it with me, now.  Oh… her heart melted a little.  Hugging him tightly (not the easiest thing to do when you're both floating), she whispered, "Thank you."_

            She stared in wonder for a moment, until Gohan broke the silence.

            "You did really great out there tonight, Videl.  You're really getting the hang of using your ki when you need to."

            "What do you mean?"

            "When you dashed to stop that guy.  You probably caused some confusion when you disappeared.  They expect that from me, not from you," he chuckled as he said that last part.

            "What?" she asked, flabbergasted.  "You mean I was moving?  Like you do?"  She remembered now how it felt.  Like the world slowed down, and everything stopped, except her and Gohan.  She must have been using super speed like he and his other friends do.  She couldn't believe it!  She was finally getting the hang of what they did.  Maybe she could talk him into teaching her energy attacks now.

            "I can't believe it," was all she could say.  "Thank you, Gohan."

            "For what?" he asked, genuinely confused.

            "For teaching me.  For helping me.  For being my friend."  As she said this, she reached for his free hand, the one not holding the Saiyaman helmet.

            "I can't help it, Videl.  I…  I love you," he tightened her hold.

            "Oh, Gohan.  I love you, too…"  They stood that way (so to speak) for some time, oblivious to the night sky above them…

*          *          *

Meanwhile, as Gohan and Videl truly began their life as a couple, another pair was enjoying each others company, too.  On the beach of a small island in the middle of the ocean, far, very far from any real civilization, they sat in silence, the man sitting back, leaning into the woman, the woman leaning into a palm tree, providing comfortable and quiet support for them both.  It was late at night, the other residents of the house having gone to be hours ago.  An upstairs window was open, letting the warm sea breeze in, and, more importantly, the noises of the little girl asleep inside to waft out to her parents below.

The man stirred in the woman's lap, dozing.  The woman slowly stroked his thick, dark hair, a faint smile on her face.  She indulged in this for a few moments before nudging him awake.  "Wake up, sleepyhead," she said, chuckling slightly.  "We're out here for a reason, you know…"

"I know," slurred the man, obviously awakening from a nap.  He stretched, cracking several joints in doing so.  The woman winced.  She hated that sound.  The man got up, sitting in front of the woman, and seizing a hand.

"I love you, Eighteen," he said.

"I love you, too, Krillin.  What's your point?" Still sporting that slight smile, the one she only used for him.  Krillin often wonder what it was she saw in him, but when he saw that smile, so slight, but barely detectable, he knew there was something there.  It inspired him to be the best man he could be for her and their daughter.  He fell in love again every time she did that.  And he never got tired of it.

Pulling himself from his reverie, he spoke in a low voice, lowering his head as he did so.  "I'm so sorry."

She'd half expected something like this, ever since they'd been brought back to life again.  She took the initiative.  "What for?  That you couldn't stop Buu?  News flash, he beat all of us.  Not one of us were enough to beat him."

His face fell.  She knew him well.  He'd been quiet these few months since they were reunited.  Rejoicing, yes.  Spending a lot of time with wife and daughter, certainly.  He put on a happy face, but Eighteen could tell he was worried inside.  Something had been eating him.  She'd caught him outside in the mornings sometimes meditating, an activity she hadn't seen him do since he gave up fighting.  He was training again, too.  His energy was higher now than it had ever been, but he was doing it silently, in the mornings or late at night, when no one watched.  She had already decided to confront him about it soon, but, then, he'd suggested this late night meeting, just man and wife, Roshi and the others asleep inside.  It seemed he'd bring it up on his own.  That saved her the trouble of doing it herself…

            Knowing her words had been sharp, she squeezed his hand, causing him to look at her.  She knew she wasn't the emotional type, but somehow she melted every time he looked at her like that.  Not just as a woman, but a human being.  Not a cyborg, not a fighter, not a monster.  Just a person.  She ran her other hand down his face, blushing as he leaned into it.  She spoke, then, softly.

            "I don't remember so much that we were killed by that bastard.  That really sucked, yes, but that's not what I remember most.  What I remember was a brave man who tried to sacrifice his life to save us all.  You offered yourself to that… _monster so we might get away.  It's not your fault that it didn't work out the way it should have.  You just weren't powerful enough."  __Ouch! Should have stopped while you were ahead, Eighteen.  __Oh, well, it's too late now._

            Krillin sighed.  "That's just the point.  I _wasn't powerful enough.  Not by a long shot.  Not me, and from what I hear, neither was Tien, and I know he's probably trained ever since Cell.  And we're the most powerful humans on this planet."  Eighteen wasn't offended by his hidden assumption that she wasn't human.  She knew what he meant.  And she felt in her gut where this was going, and didn't like it.  "I mean, what if the Saiyans had never known of this world?  What if Piccolo had never found this place?  Where would we be, then?  We've given our destiny away, Eighteen.  As much as I love Goku, Gohan, and the rest, I'm beginning to feel that we've been cheated out of something here."_

            Eighteen began to get a little angry with that.  "You call having a wife and child being cheated?  You call having a world safe from evil and filled with peace being cheated?  What, exactly, do you feel cheated about, Krillin?  I feel more than a little hurt by that."

            He looked, askance, "I know, and I'm sorry.  That's not what I mean.  I feel blessed beyond compare for you and Marron, and I hope you know that.  I wouldn't trade you for anything.  I was speaking more for my race than for myself, personally.  I just think that, maybe, it's time we pulled our own weight around here, instead of letting Goku take care of the problems all the time, and just watching from the sidelines."

            He sat quietly for a moment.  Then, abruptly, "I'm going to go for a while…"

            "What for?"  Eighteen asked, a combination of fear and sadness choking the words out.

            "I need to train.  I think I'll try to find Tien.  See what he thinks would be a good idea.  If anything ever comes along again, I don't want to be a no count."

            She didn't argue.  She desperately didn't want him to go, but she knew his mind was made, and, moreover, he needed to do this.  She merely asked, "How long?"  His reply was slow in coming.  "I'm not sure.  Surely not more than a few months, at the most.  Basically, I just want to get an idea of what my real limits are.  I'm sure Tien wants the same thing, so we might be able to help each other a bit.  Hopefully.  Who knows, maybe we'll find out the human equivalent of a Super Saiyan.  Then you wouldn't have to hold back when you spar with me anymore."  He said this last part with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.

            She never gave her approval, at least, not in words.  They simply resumed their position from before.  She leans on the tree while he lay over her, her hand returning to his head, slowly stroking.  Eventually, she dozed, as well, awakening in the first light of the sun.  He wasn't there.  She panicked for a moment, fearing that he'd left in the night.  Looking around, though, she could see that was unfounded.  He stood in the sand by the water, doing basic stretches for a warm-up.  She'd awakened at feeling the steady rise of his ki as he prepared for the morning.

_            Of course, he wouldn't leave without telling.  He might do it to me, but he'd never do it to Marron.  It'd break her heart.  She smiled at knowing that she had at least one way to keep him around.  Rising, she walked down to him.  He heard her coming, and turned around.  They stood in silence for a moment, until he broke it._

            "How are you feeling, today?"  A simple question, deserving a simple answer, "I'm fine," she replied.  Accepting that he had to do this with a sigh, she approached him closer.  "You know, if you're planning to make yourself stronger, it might help if you had some idea what you're aspiring to."  As she said this, she got into a stance, her enhanced body having little need for stretching or tiresome preparation.

            "Are you serious about that?  We haven't sparred since before the Budokai."

            "I know that.  Are you saying you don't want to?"

            He didn't answer.  He simply came at her.


	3. Isometric Exercise

Aftermath

  


Chapter 3

  


Teach like a Child

  
  
  
  


The Satan mansion boasted many things. Hundreds of rooms, a spacious wine cellar, even an in house theater ostensibly for 'training purposes' (Hercule did watch a lot of fights in there, at least). The _piece de resistance_ of all this, though, was the Gym. While there were several Hercule Satan gymnasiums throughout the city, heck the world, this was _the_ Hercule Satan gymnasium. Only those handpicked by Hercule himself had the privilege of training in this hallowed hall . . . 

  


Well, everyone except the current sole occupant of the gym. Her privilege was by right of birth. Videl Satan was training, though without much luck. One of the drawbacks to her training for the Budokai with Gohan was that most of the conventional training tools she had there were simply inadequate for her level of strength. Sandbags burst after only a few hits, weights were simply not heavy enough anymore and none of the bench presses offered enough resistance. The evidence of all this was strewn throughout the gym, as if some natural disaster had befallen the haven for Hercule's chosen elite. 

  


Right now, she was meditating, her mind turned inward, trying to become better acquainted with her own personal energy. 'Ki' as she'd heard it called by Gohan and the others, was a concept still relatively new to her. As best she understood it, it amplified her already considerable strength by drawing on her own spiritual energy, making her freakishly powerful, at least compared to any average human being. Six months ago, she would have been happy with that. Of course, six months ago, she believed that her father was the strongest man in the world.

  


Things changed.

  


Now, she found herself a small fish in a big pond. Well, maybe more like an ocean. The people she had come to know in the past few months outclassed her in strength by way more than she ever thought possible. She'd never become comfortable with that. She was still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that superpowerful aliens had been among them for decades and no one really knew. She was still trying to fully accept that her father had pulled one of the biggest con jobs in history in claiming to defeat Cell (true, she had always suspected, but still . . . ). That wasn't what irritated her the most, though.

  


There were people more powerful than she.

  


Not just aliens, or former demons, magical entities, or cyborgs. People. Homo Sapiens. Human beings. People no different from her or her father. People who could do what the Saiyans and Nameks could. Granted, so far, humans didn't rank among the elite of the Earth's special forces, but even the least of them outclassed her by a lot.

  


So she trained.

  


Now that the wish had finally been made to erase the events surrounding Buu and his resurrection, the city was virtually calm. Videl rarely had to be called upon to take care of anything by the police anymore. Saiyaman was there to take care of the major disasters and occasional falling aircraft (she still had trouble thinking of Gohan and Saiyaman as the same person, even though she'd found out several months ago). She'd taken the new luxury of free time to train herself. To prove to the world (or at least, herself), that a Satan could truly be the World's Strongest.

  


She'd made progress, and Gohan was helping to teach her some of the finer points of ki usage, like sensing and even energy blasts, but right now, she didn't want to impose too much upon him. With the passing of the memories of death, Gohan was finally able to relax and enjoy spending time with his father for the first time in many years. Videl could sympathize with that, suddenly wishing more than anything that her mother was there.

  


_Some guys have all the luck_. She thought, abandoning meditation for the time being and absently punching through another sandbag . . . 

  


"Damn it, is it too much to ask for some durable equipment?" She raged, trying to vent her momentary anger. She turned to leave the gym, only to be surprised to bounce backwards . . . 

  


Standing behind her (now in front of her) was the childlike being that had once eaten her like a candy bar. _Exactly like a candy bar, actually_. She corrected herself. She still was a little creeped out by the fact that Buu now lived under the same roof as her, but she'd grown fonder of the former menace. Without his darker tendencies to drive him to wreak destruction, he was actually an endearing (if sometimes childishly annoying) person.

  


Right now, Buu ignored Videl and looked around at all the smashed gym equipment. Taking it in, he looked down at the daughter of his benefactor and asked, in his usual baby voice "Why for you tear down Hercule's gym?"

  


"I wasn't trying to tear it down, Buu, I was trying to train. Unfortunately, the equipment is just too fragile now."

  


"What's fragile?" came the response from the corpulent ex-demon

  


Slumping, Videl said, "Weak, easy to break Like us humans." She wasn't in the mood right now and was beginning to depress herself.

  


"Oh," he was silent for a moment. Videl was about to start walking around him when he said, "You not fragile. Are you not human?"

  


Videl balked a bit at that one. Even though, the question was asked from ignorance, she couldn't help but feel a bit validated by it. "I am human, Buu," she said, chucking lightly. Sweeping her hand across the mess that was the gym, she said, "This equipment, though, it's fragile. It breaks easily. I was trying to train and get stronger."

  


"Oh!" Buu tittered for a minute, laughing in his own, innocent way. "Buu can help!"

  


"I don't know, Buu," Videl said, laughing a bit harder now. "You're not as strong as you were, but you'd probably still hurt me if we fought."

  


"No, Buu not fight. Videl fight Buu."

  


"What are you talking about?"

  


"You hit Buu. Buu not get hurt. Buu not fragile." Trying out his new word, Buu grinned, patting his stomach proudly.

  


"I'm not sure about this, Buu. Are you sure you don't mind? You won't get hurt?" Videl felt more than a little surreal about this.

  


"Sure. Watch Buu." Immediately, Buu took one of his hands and punched himself in the side of his stomach, his hand appearing on the other side, "See, Buu not hurt. Now you try."

  


"Ok, if you're sure about this." Videl crouched, gathering herself. She knew, on one level that, the former Majin meant every word he said, and moreover, he was right. She could go all out on him and he'd probably not even flinch. On the other hand, she wasn't sure how comfortable she would be about hitting him.

  


_Well, he did ask for it,_ she rationalized weakly before powering up and hitting him with a powerful (for her) punch right in the stomach. It was strange, like punching rubber, or a Jell-O mold. Her fist sunk in, then bounced right off.

  


Buu, insufferably happy, clapped his hands. "Yeah, like that. Now hit Buu again."

  


"Buu, are you offering to by my new punching bag?" Videl asked, a bit dumbfounded.

  


"Sure. Buu help Videl get strong. Now hit Buu again."

  


Sighing, Videl got into an attack stance, "All right, Buu, I'll hit you again, but this time, I won't quit, OK?"

  


"Sure, hit Buu."

  


"Ok. Here I come!" She put everything into this attack. She attacked furiously, punching his gut, kicking his back, chopping here, ax handling that. She didn't let up, only stooping to catch her breath before going back after him. Every time was the same. She'd hit him. He'd laugh. Pretty soon, it got to be irritating to the point that she started to get mad, hitting him even harder.

  


"Good, good, getting stronger!" was all Buu would say, between fits of childish laughter. This went on for about an hour, with Videl stopping every now and again to catch her breath. Finally, she collapsed on the ground, too spent to move. She'd put her body and her ki fully into that exercise, and she was exhausted. After a few minutes, she felt better, but wobbly on her feet. 

  


Nevertheless, she was ecstatic. She hadn't felt this worked out in days. Gohan would never let her do this, he was too concerned about her feelings to really show his strength around her (not to mention his total incapacity to hit a girl, despite her efforts to get him to spar), and she just didn't feel comfortable yet around anyone else to ask.

  


As grateful as she was, though, she couldn't help but feel a little guilty. Not once had Buu even tried to defend himself. Even knowing what he was capable of, that tweaked her conscience a bit. "Are you sure you're OK, Buu?" She asked, knowing the answer, but needing to know.

  


"Buu not hurt. Buu had fun! Can we do this again later?" _You'd think I'd just fed him a chocolate sundae. He's so happy._ She thought, beginning to feel a bit better for trying to knock his block off.

  


"I'm not so sure about that, Buu. I still don't feel right about using you like that, but, if you're sure, come down here tomorrow morning and we'll do this again," the daughter of the World Champion bowed her head to the former Majin, "Thank you, Buu. That was very nice of you. Let me shower and I'll buy you some chocolate, OK?"

  


"YAY!" Buu danced around as Videl slowly walked out of the gym toward the showers, her muscles already aching from the exercise.

  


Buu waited patiently, already happy, but even happier that candy was in his near future, dancing in his delight. 


	4. Pride Wenteth Before the Fall

A/N: OMG, Two chapters after four months? Amazing, isn't it? It's sort of a tease, though, since my output won't be anywhere near as prolific, these two chapters though, had been getting worked, off and on, for several months now, and I knew I was never going to be satisfied with them until I got another opinion of them (*cough* please review *cough*). So, while these two chapters may not be as good as the first two, they will be. They're just in a state of development. I just needed to get them out of the way so I can move on to more interesting material...

  


I'm very happy with this chapter, for some reason, though. The writing doesn't quite satisfy me, but the issues therein I think are good. Hopefully, you'll like it too. For any of my readers wanting a bit more plot development, don't worry. That will come soon. I really wanted to deal with some of the emotional fallout first before I moved on to "The Next Big Thing" (TM) That's OK, though, I think you guys like this, anyway...

  


As always, I don't own the franchise, I'm just living in it...

  
  
  
  


_Aftermath, Chapter 5_

  


_Pride wenteth before the fall_

  
  


Thunder roared across the heavens as two titans, the world's strongest, fought with everything that they had, the empty, featureless plain stretching for an infinite distance around them. A struggle of titanic proportions as two beings, each at the peak of his respective power, one clearly visible with a powerful yellow aura and a wild mane of long, blonde hair, the other looking little different from usual, other than the pure white aura that, to a casual observer, made him appear similar to a normal, human fighter, belying the nearly infinite well of hybrid Saiyan power that fueled it. Since the final restoration of the Earth as it once had been with everyone ignorant of Buu and the events surrounding his existence, these spars between father and son happened with regularity, each being the only other living being that could conceivably test the others' strength and ability.

  


The field they fought upon was very reminiscent of the Room of Spirit and Time, destroyed when the former Demon King Piccolo blasted the dimensional gateway linking Kami's Lookout to the pocket dimension. Whatever magic or physics that had bound the mysterious realm to the Earth failed to restore with the revival of the Earth. In a feat that proved that the Earth's new, young Guardian had the potential for true greatness, Dende had managed to restore the room, quite the feat given that the origins of the room were lost in the seas of antiquity . . . 

  


Of course, not everything was perfect. The same, empty, tableau greeted any visitor to the chamber, but time passed at just the same rate here as on Earth, and visitors could leave at any time. It would take a bit more practice before the chamber could be restored to its previous specifications, though for now, the room still had its uses, as proven by the two warriors sparring above, neither daring to show this much power outside, where people could be killed and landscapes altered just by the act of powering up. It was in this setting that Gohan was fulfilling a promise to himself.

  


He wasn't a warrior, at least, not by choice. Destiny and a Saiyan father had forced that role upon him, and it was one that never truly called to him. Sure, he felt the cry for battle in his blood, the need to test himself, but, unlike the Saiyan race from which he partially descended, those cries didn't always manifest on the battlefield. That same determination, that drive to succeed and be the best, had also helped him to become a world class scholar. The warrior race's ability to memorize and duplicate battle techniques after just a demonstration had been applied to mathematical disciplines, rules for logic and debate, and the scientific process. 

  


Gohan felt the drive, all right, just as strongly as the pure blooded Goku and Vegeta. But the drive took him to many places besides the next fight, and those places fascinated him far more than the bloodshed and pain he associated with fighting, that had cost him so much of his innocence at such an early age. In a way, it was a backlash against everything the Saiyan race had stood for. In another way, it was a validation, a means of atonement. Gohan wanted to prove that the Saiyan legacy could be more than just destroyed planets and ruined lives. He wanted it more than anything . . . 

  


At the same time, he understood the necessity to keep training, and to continue fighting. He'd already fallen into the trap of complacency once, after Cell, ceasing his training entirely for seven long years, never once considering that something else could come along and bring danger to the world. In a fair universe, it wouldn't have.

  


But, though many things about the universe are unknown, one thing is obvious: Life isn't fair . . . 

  


Buu's coming had shown Gohan that, despite his desire to become something more than just another fighter, he still had to maintain the role, somewhat, especially now. With the Mystic power up he'd gotten from the Old Kaioshin, he was, theoretically, the strongest fighter in the universe right now.

  


His father was a close second, and growing closer. Though his Super Saiyan 3 transformation yielded more power than Gohan could summon at its zenith, there were two major problems with it. One was that it wasn't a stable transformation. Like the Fusion dance, it wore off after a short time, and couldn't be maintained.

Secondly (and this was the big one), it hemorrhaged as much ki as it gave the user. This related to the first problem, and, while it could be managed, it couldn't be stopped entirely. While the energy boost was incredible, Goku lost as much as he gained in the transformation, and it cost a lot to maintain. This level of energy just wasn't sustainable in a Saiyan body . . . 

  


At least, a full Saiyan body.

Gohan had pondered a lot about the Old Kaioshin's power up, and it's nature. At his maximum, nearly as high as Goku's, Gohan didn't bleed any power at all. Even the basic SSJ transformation at least took some amount of power to maintain. This amounted to a great advantage for Gohan, since all he really had to do to beat his father was avoid him until he couldn't maintain level three anymore. Of course, he never did that. It just wouldn't be fair, and it would defeat the point of the exercise. Goku could practice sustaining his ultimate transformation by himself. He needed a partner, though, to test his skill.

  


Gohan, on the other hand, apparently didn't need the assistance of transformations of any kind to sustain those levels of power. Could it be his human half? Could Trunks and Goten become as strong as he without the aid of Super Saiyan transformations? For that matter, could the normal humans? Gohan wasn't sure about the latter. The humans were supremely adaptive, and capable of manipulating ki in many ways to compensate for the fact that they were relatively weak compared to most humanoid species. Despite the fact that the Saiyans had eclipsed them utterly in power, the humans of the Earth's Special Forces were far stronger than nearly every civilization that had developed ki this side of the afterlife (and even some from the other side).

  


On the other hand, they just didn't have the adaptive mechanisms that the Saiyan body exploited so well. Strength increases after every injury. A photographic memory for technique, a body much better designed to channel large amounts of ki, and several transformations for being able to channel more, from giant Oozaru to the Super Saiyan. Humans may have the potential for this level of power, but they had a much harder road to travel to get to it.

  


Gohan had the best of both. An adaptive body and mind derived from two very different species; Gohan had the potential to be many things. Right now, all he wanted was to become as strong as Buu had been in his final form. He'd caught a faint glimpse of that power in the afterlife, and known that, even with his awakened ability, it still wasn't near enough.

  


Of course, Goku had fared little better, since it wasn't his personal power that beat Buu so much as the collected power of planet Earth. Both knew this, and both wanted to be prepared in case it happened again. If nothing else, history had proven that they only come back stronger than before . . . 

  


Gohan took a kick to the back, plummeting to the ground at supersonic speeds. He barely had time to right himself before crashing hard into whatever surface served as the 'bottom' of the Room of Spirit and Time. Dodging out of the way of the expected follow up attack, Gohan was caught by surprise when Goku materialized right in front of him, ki blast already leaving his hand.

  


_Instant Transmission. I'll never get used to that . . . _Gohan cursed himself as he flew away, again hard, but also, unhurt. Goku's power was already waning. At first, Goku could only sustain this power for a few minutes at best. Now, he could do about an hour before collapsing from exhaustion. It had been 45 minutes since he transformed, and Gohan knew that their time was almost up . . . 

  


Adapting a technique he'd learned from Piccolo, Gohan folded his arms in front of him and used the Split form technique. Sure it effectively split his strength among each incarnation, he also knew that he had to challenge his limits if he was going to become stronger in this form.

  


It's always a strange thing to fight in more than one body. The funny thing is, it isn't the actual body split that's difficult, it's training your mind to perceive and fight across two different perspectives without completely losing your sanity in the chaos. Gohan didn't really like using it often, but, at least he was getting a challenge now, as each half was completely dominated by Son Goku's strength. It took every bit of Gohan's skill not to get completely mopped by him.

  


Of course, it wasn't a one-sided fight. Two Gohans meant effectively four arms and four fists, and the same number of legs and feet. Goku only had two, so he was taking many hits that he simply couldn't block. He took care of the most damaging blows, but he was wearing down fast. Normally, at this point, he would have yelled a kai, blowing his opponent away from him, and powered up even more, but all his energy was going to sustaining his transformation, with a little going out to block the incoming blows. He couldn't fight Gohan at level two, and certainly not level one, so, for now, it was an endurance test. Who would fall first? Despite the fact that this was just a spar, Goku took this as seriously as if the earth depended on it (though to some that may not mean a lot).

  


The Super Saiyan 3 transformation was based upon a lot more than just ki. A good bit of the user's own life force went into it, as well. As a result, willpower could only go so far in sustaining it. Willpower finally gave up on Son Goku, and he collapsed to the ground after a particularly hard hit by Gohan, his hair shrinking back to it's normal, much shorter, black, his features morphing back into his usual self . . . 

  


Gohan wasn't much better. A nasty burn mark up one arm from a Kienzan that nearly got him was blistering. Both hot and sharp, the cut had cauterized as soon as it was made. It kept the victim from dying immediately, though that isn't much comfort when you lose a limb to it. Face blackened, muscles sore, Gohan collapsed in a heap by his father, both of them laughing softly, sporting ridiculous identical grins on their faces.

  


They stayed like that a while, both catching their breath, and trying to recover their energy. Gohan was getting better. This was the first time he'd fought his dad to a draw in an all out slugfest. Finally, Goku spoke, his words slightly slurred since he was utterly spent, having put his all into his power up.

  


"Son, thanks for doing this. I really appreciate it. You're the only one who can really give me a good fight anymore."

  


"I know, Dad. It's Ok. It's not as if you put me out or anything just because I'm helping you train."

  


"Yeah, son, but I know how much you don't like fighting." There was a long pause, as Goku thought about something he wanted to say. Finally, he said, "I'm sorry that I tried to make you take my place as defender of the Earth. I know you're destined for greater things than just a fighter like your old man . . . " He chuckled at that last part.

  


Gohan sighed. He'd thought a lot about this, as well, and wanted his father to understand him. The fates only knew if, or more likely when, he would be taken from his life again. "Father. You're right. I don't have what it takes to be like you. I'm strong, yes, but I'm a lot of other things, too. I think I could do more to help the world than just as cannon fodder." He paused for a moment, then continued. "I've never been sure why there has to be just one great defender, anyway, Dad. Why can't we all be powerful, so that, when the next threat comes, we don't have to tackle it alone."

  


"Because, son, that's the Saiyan way, to fight alone," Goku could see his son mounting a protest. It was an argument that they'd had many times since Buu, and Goku could no longer really defend his position. He still had nightmares of that moment. When he failed against Buu on the Planet of the Kais. Arrogantly, without thinking, he and Vegeta both trashed the idea of Fusion, a sure bet, for the idea of fighting individually, one that, inside, both knew couldn't work, but they did anyway.

  


Pride demanded it.

Even without fusion, they could have both attacked at once. Instead, they made a game of who went first. After all, they couldn't horn in on the other's credit.

  


Pride demanded it.

  


When Goku fought Buu, he took his time, testing Buu, playing with Buu, even though he'd seen Buu fight numerous times at that point and knew his style by heart. He could have powered to his fullest right off the bat and destroyed him utterly, but he didn't. He wanted a match, not a walloping . . . 

  


Pride demanded it.

  


However, pride didn't take into account that Super Saiyan three had limits, and Goku exhausted himself before even getting close to his maximum.

  


Vegeta, strangely, swallowed his pride first and suggested the idea of a spirit bomb. Goku had taken a dislike to the attack, personally. Perhaps it was his time with Vegeta, but he'd taken the attitude that, since it wasn't his own energy, it wasn't fair to use against another. It didn't prove his strength, just how much energy he could gather from everything else.

  


Pride was wrong.

  


Despite his platitudes of needing to save the Earth, the universe, and all of existence, it was at that moment that Goku fully understood just what was at stake here, and that this fight was about more than just selfish pride.

  


So they gathered the energy, finally, and thought it was finished when Goku sent it off. They hadn't counted on Buu stopping it. They hadn't counted on his pushing it back. Goku was utterly spent. He had no more, and, finally, couldn't even raise his arms anymore. At this moment, that was when the Dragonballs wished his power restored and he beat Buu. His nightmares told another story. He saw the spirit bomb, meant for Buu, coming toward him. Goku was helpless, not even enough power left to use Instant Transmission. Even if he could, what was the point? Buu had won. It meant death for them all . . . 

  


_I failed._ He thought, totally given to despair. He thought of the chances they had to destroy Buu, and how he and Vegeta had thrown them away, just because they each wanted credit for beating Buu, and didn't want to share.

  


Pride was wrong. It had cost them everything. Only then, did Goku realize that pride wasn't worth it, but it was too late. He felt the Spirit Bomb reach him, felt the burning as his body was utterly consumed by it, a small drop added to the ocean of ki that made up the whole of humanity. _They had that much power in them? Amazing . . . _His last thought before utter annihilation . . . 

  


That was when he awakened, body in a sweat, his heart pounding, and guilt on his mind. His wife, happier than he'd ever seen her, asleep at his side. It was all a dream.

  


But that was no excuse . . . 

  


Goku turned to his son, guilt in his eyes. Gohan still poised to argue with him on the merits of Saiyan wisdom and what he thought of it. "You're right son. You're absolutely right. I may like to fight alone, but that isn't always going to cut it, is it?" They sat in silence for a moment as both got into a sitting position, facing each other. "It reminds me of something I told Vegeta when we were fighting Buu. 'The Saiyan race is gone, but that doesn't mean we can't find another way to live.' That wasn't exactly it, but it was close."

  


"You were absolutely right Dad. I understand the need to train, now more than ever. I just can't dedicate my life to it, not when there's so many other things that call to me. This world is about more than just the next battle. Humanity is more than just a warrior race. I'm human, too, Dad, and you know what? So are you . . . " 

  


Seeing nothing more natural to do at the moment, Gohan embraced his father, and he returned it. Such moments are rare for a father and son, when they emotionally connect with one another. It just isn't in the nature of males to bond with one another in this way, especially when they have Saiyan blood in their veins. Seven years of separation expressed themselves in the short hug, seven years of guilt, one for leaving and the other for causing him to leave, a moment of joy, when they realized that they were together again, this time for good. Forgiveness, as well, forgiveness for everything.

  


Eventually, as all things do, the moment passed, and father and son passed out of the chamber, and went in search of healing and food, a renewed bond between them . . . 


	5. The First Step

In a way, I suppose this applies to myself, the author, as it does to my story. I've had a difficult time finding the inspiration and drive to continue this. I have ideas, but they're difficult to connect together. So far, though, I think I'm doing OK, even if I'm a bit slow. I've got an idea to help those who may be irritated with my slow productivity, though. See the end of this chapter for details...

  


I don't own DBZ, but I do own my own car...

  


_The First Step_

  


A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

~ Lao Tzu

  


Here was the place.

  


It was difficult to recognize without the wholesale destruction that had filled it when they were last here. Had Gohan been with them, he would have recognized it immediately as part of the area that Piccolo had left him to train himself for six months.

  


It was also the place where the three humans, with Gohan and Piccolo, had tried to take on two Elite Saiyans without Goku . . . And failed.

  


When Tien had first brought them here, it had awakened a deep unease in Krillen. One he had a difficult time quantifying. Glancing at Yamcha, he could see that same expression in the former bandit's eyes. Tien eyed them for a few moments, then asked a deceptively simple question.

  


"Tell me, what kind of feelings does this place awaken in you?"

  


A moment passed, then Yamcha spoke. "I remember this place. We fought the Saiyans here. I remember . . . " He pointed at a nearby crater, grown over by grass, but just visible, " . . . that was where I got killed by one of those stupid Saibamen. I've never been here since then. Looking at the damage, even grown over, I can tell it was a hell of a fight."

  


Krillen was still quiet. Slowly, he walked to a near bottomless hole, now, apparently, a permanent fixture on the planet now. Krillen remembered how this had been made, but Tien did the explaining for Yamcha, who had already been dead when this happened.

  


"I remember this hole. It's one of the last things I remember, actually, before the shock of having my arm chopped off set in. I think you, Krillen, were trying to dive in to save me from the other Saiyan, the big one, when he did this. Stupid, really. I should have listened to Piccolo and ducked instead of blocked. I thought I could take it, though . . . "

  


Krillen also remembered Tien, knew there was more to that story. Remembered Choutzu sacrificing himself to no effect. Remembered the blind rage that compelled Tien to avenge that noble, but futile act, and to follow his friend into the jaws of death with a matching, utterly useless attempt at vengeance . . . 

  


Finally, Krillen chose to talk. "Right as you died, Tien, seeing you expend every effort, every bit of what you had to take down that Saiyan . . . Nappa, wasn't it? ... I remember feeling completely overwhelmed, out of my depth. We were the best Earth had to offer, and it just didn't matter for beans. Even Piccolo, who I thought could stand as firm as Goku against these monsters, fell before them. We tried so hard, worked so much. And we couldn't even take down one of them."

  


"Thankfully, Goku showed up." Yamcha said, though it wasn't with any great cheer, the point beginning to sink in for him, too.

  


"Exactly," Tien said, walking away from the hole. "From then on, we were negligible. Insignificant. No counts." He let that hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "I remember training at King Kai's, thinking, that with the training of the highest god of this side of the universe, we could all be as strong as Goku was. We knew there was no way he could match Frieza, but maybe, with all of us there, we could make a difference."

  


"But he found a way." Krillen said, softly.

  


"Exactly!" Tien said, excited now. "He found a way. He became a Super Saiyan. When the androids arrived, and we were all beaten down by them, what happened? Piccolo found a way."

  


"He merged with Kami."

  


"And became much, much stronger. And took care of them easily. When Cell showed up, the Saiyans went into the Room of Spirit and Time to get stronger, to beat him. To save the world."

  


"Our world." Yamcha mouthed.

  


"My question is, why didn't we even try to help? We could have used the room just as they did. We could have trained hard, pushed our limits. At least, we could have tried!"

  


"Here was where the Saiyans truly beat us. I can accept that, now. At the Cell games, though, we just gave up. We gave the responsibility to someone else. Is that right?"

  


Krillen thought that Tien was proselytizing, simply being dramatic. That last question, though, said so plaintively, told the truth. This was a personal demon haunting him. Tien had been an assassin, a taker of lives. He had reformed, though, and joined the good guys. Tien had always been a little more reckless than the others, though, sometimes a little too willing to commit his life to the flames, to go out in a blaze of glory. He did it with Nappa. He nearly did it with Cell, stalling him so he couldn't get to Android 18, an effort rendered futile by yet another Saiyan, Vegeta. Tien desperately wanted that chance, it seemed, to prove himself, to show that he truly could be a hero, that he was committed to saving lives rather than taking them.

  


But how can you do that when you have super heroes cornering the market in that business?

  


All was silent for a moment, then Yamcha spoke.

  


"The funny thing is, we're not that weak. Each of us could probably give Frieza a run for his money nowadays." He said with a wry chuckle. "Krillen, do you remember the Grand Kai planet?"

  


"Yeah, why do you ask?"

  


"You remember King Kai wanting us there, to train? In case Buu killed everybody else defending Earth?" Not waiting for an answer, Yamcha went on, "I do. I also remember facing some of those guys in the afterlife, warriors that had dedicated their eternities to training and the constant improvement of themselves. You know what surprised me the most about that?"

  


"No, what?" Krillen asked, genuinely curious.

  


"We _ranked_. We were matches for most of them. Two pitiful warriors from Earth could meet the best of worlds all over the galaxy, and still hold their own. I'd given up on training, actually, before Buu arrived. Honestly, I think I gave it up right after Cell. It just seemed pointless. We'd work hard, and we never got to do anything. Not that we'd have done any good if we did. There, though, I saw that we didn't have anything to be ashamed of. We could take our place with the best of the universe. It's not our fault that we got stuck with the last of the Living Legends. Knowing that now, I feel like I need to do something a bit more deserving of the power I've been gifted with . . . well, besides being a baseball celebrity, anyway." He laughed at that, the chuckle sounding much more mirthful this time.

  


"Well, OK. I think I see your point now, Tien." Krillen spoke, his voice thoughtful. "But I fail to see what, exactly, you want us to do with you. We can train and become stronger, yes. We're almost as strong as Goku when he first reached Super Saiyan. We might even be able to surpass that. But what then? The Saiyans become far more powerful than that, now. Even if we could somehow find a transformation or power up, they've still got that level two and three. I might accept us being able to find one, but two or more? That seems a bit farfetched . . . 

  


"You misunderstand me, Krillen." Tien said, his voice sounding like he already had this discussion with himself before. "I don't think there's any possible way we can match the Saiyans at their current power. I'm not looking to beat them, anyway. However, that doesn't mean we can't test the full measure of our capabilities and use them to at least help the next time something appears. I don't want to be useless again. I don't have to win, but I at least want to make a difference next time. _That's _what I'm shooting for."

  


They pondered that for a few moments, while Tien rummaged in his pocket for something. Finding it, he revealed a capsule, one of the most ubiquitous, and indispensable technological innovations of the last century. Capable of holding just about anything in a small, portable form, few people knew exactly how they worked. Probably no one did whose last name wasn't Briefs. Something about folding pocket dimensions or something like that, to avoid the whole mass issue, since you didn't want to have to carry the equivalent weight of an entire Gravity Room with you, no matter how portable the size . . . 

  


Speaking of Gravity Rooms, it's interesting to note that, when Tien activated the capsule and tossed it, what should come out but a large version of the Gravity Room that Vegeta used in his own personal training. Krillen and Yamcha looked on, a combination of surprise and a little fear. Yamcha had more to fear, though. He remembered, sometime during the three-year period before the androids arrived, he'd foolishly tried to use Vegeta's version of the GR at his training settings. Unfortunately, 350 times Earth normal gravity was simply too much for his body at the time. Thankfully, he still had the energy to turn the thing off before he turned himself into a bloody smear. He'd never trusted high gravity training since.

  


Krillen looked on with a sense of apprehension, but for different reasons. It was one thing for him to train with weighted clothing, to accept power ups from total strangers, and take lessons from some of the greatest martial arts masters of the universe. For some reason, though, using an obvious technological means of training stuck in his craw a little. It felt a bit like . . . cheating.

  


A hand came down on his shoulder. "I know how you feel, Krillen." said Tien. "I've got the same misgivings about it. Must be something we inherited from our masters. I've thought about it a lot, though, and there's no way around it. High gravity training is probably the best, most efficient way to increase your ambient strength. It forces you to have to maintain a high power level and peak physical condition just to stay alive in it. It's also how the Saiyans first started their rise to power. I think we need this."

  


Yamcha had a different question. "How did you get this so fast, Tien? I don't remember much about what went into these things, but I know these puppies don't come quick, cheap or easy."

  


"Well, it's a bit more than just a gravity room, Yamcha. It's also a star ship. Apparently, after Namek, Bulma tinkered a lot with the Saiyan space pod designs that she already had, and built an extra star ship just in case we needed to leave the planet for an emergency again. Apparently, these gravity rooms come standard with it. Something about maintaining equilibrium and bone growth on extended voyages, I don't pretend to understand everything Bulma says, though. The point is, it's a fully functional gravity room, up to 600 g's. Vegeta trains at about 500-550, so I think our first goal is to shoot for that."

  


"Are you crazy?!" Krillen gasped when he heard that. "We'd never survive anything that intense!"

  


"Right now, no, we can't." Tien said, a slight scowl on his face. "Something tells me, though, that we can, if we work toward that slowly, and don't exert ourselves too much. Don't forget, there was a time when we could keep pace with the Saiyans, albeit a couple of steps behind, but we got there. Vegeta trains in this in his base form. I think we can at least do that. Or are you two not prepared to see what we can really do?" With that, Tien stalked slowly and deliberately toward the pod, apparently eager to begin.

  


Yamcha looked after the triclops with a measure of shock. His pride began to make its voice heard, though, and soon, he screwed up his face and followed his comrade in, leaving Krillen the only one outside.

  


The short statured monk looked up into the sky, twilight beginning to set in, knowing that, back home, sunset was still a few hours away. Nonetheless, he looked up at the first, twinkling stars as they began to sparkle in the fading light, hoping, in a foolish romantic way that had nothing to do with reason, that Eighteen was looking up there, too. _I'm sorry, love,_ he thought to his love, knowing she couldn't really feel him, _this may take a little longer than I thought. But I have to do this. I have to know. I know you'll understand._ Closing his eyes and breathing deeply for a moment, he emptied his mind, and let the sound of the universe around pass through him. When he exhaled, his worries, doubts and fears evaporated . . . at least for now.

  


With that, Krillen walked toward the chamber, wondering about what lay ahead . . . 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Author's Note:

  


I know this is shorter than the other few chapters, but I felt this was a good stopping point. Given my (obviously) infrequent updates regarding this story, I thought it might be best if I started a mailing list for all those who are interested in keeping up with this narrative. Given that it seems to take me a few months to churn out each part of the story, I thought this might keep me from losing any prospective fans and give me a chance to start my own fan club ;-)

  


Seriously, though, I think this might be a good idea just so that I don't feel bad that I'm selling my audience short by taking my time. I know it can be a pain to check ff.net every few days to see if your favorite fics have been updated, so I thought I'd see how this would fly. If you are interested, contact me at bonzo_the_fifth@yahoo.com. Who knows, I may even ask for opinions or help sometime, if I like you ;-)


	6. Adaptation

Yeah, I guess I deserve a little flak. After all, I planned to have this out months ago. Work stress, combined with other ideas, and a horrible case of writer's block in the middle of this chapter all conspired to delay this. Thankfully, a recent review reminded me that there are still people interested in hearing more of this story, which spurred me to write more. This story isn't finished, for what it's worth, I just needed motivation. In case that bit of subtlety went over your head, plese review, so I know you care... Thanks!

  
  


I apologize for the relative brevity of this chapter. I have a difficult time writing Vegeta, and I didn't want to get too carried away with it. Let me know how I did. Now, without further pomp and circumstance, here goes... 

  
  


Aftermath, Chapter 6

  
  


Adaptation

  
  


  
  


He would never get used to the bed. 

  
  


Time was, he'd never bother with the inconvenience of actually sleeping in the accursed thing. For one, it was too soft. Any warrior worth his salt could make do with the ground and not complain. Until recently, he'd never actually slept in it, always taking the floor on any occasion that he had to sleep in there. 

  
  


Oh, the woman had bellowed greatly at first, especially after their relationship had become physical, but he'd stood firm. 'A warrior does not coddle himself in such finery!' he'd proclaimed, ending the argument every time as far as he was concerned. Eventually, she simply accepted it, barely harrumphing whenever he'd extricate himself to lie down at night. 

  
  


Recently, though, with his resurrection, Vegeta had found himself spending time there, his arm wrapped around Bulma's form as she fell asleep at night. The bed was still uncomfortable as hell, but less so than it used to be. He tried not to think about what this might mean about himself. Introspection was not natural to him, and he was learning it slowly, and would probably never be adept at it. It was also something that he was slowly incorporating into his life. 

  
  


This was much harder than the bed, as that was mere physical conditioning of having to make do with available accommodation on hostile planets in his youth. This was the undoing of an entire worldview crafted over decades of service in Freiza's ranks. Never question, never think. And _never_, ever, ask why. Residing on a world whose residents seemed to revel in all these activities was apparently rubbing off on the Saiyan Prince, causing him to think in directions he'd never allowed himself to go before . . . 

  
  


It was in this state that he fell asleep, restless in mind . . . 

  
  


He fell into his dream role quickly enough. One of his own memories, in fact. One of the countless worlds he and Nappa had shattered in their time together. This one was little different from the rest, significant only in it being the last, destroying it as a diversion on their way to find Kakarott. Vegeta reveled in the memory, recalling the pitiful, bug-like inhabitants and the awe that they had received. They'd actually been perceived as _heroes_ on that world, simply because the leader they picked a fight with had been unpopular with the people. They'd been lathered with praise, invited to return . . . 

  
  


Disgusting, really. Were they really that stupid? They deserved what came to them, Vegeta thought, bloodlessly, his mind disdainful of this pitiful species. _Hopefully, Earth shall prove to be more interesting,_ he mused as he prepared to blast the world to dust, ki pooling into his hand . . . 

  
  


His pink hand . . . 

  
  


Suddenly, Vegeta found himself somewhere different. On Earth this time, but not in his body. A second's thought was all it took to recognize the pink, stubby arm as that of Kid Buu. He registered it as his own arm, distantly, as the massive ball of energy in his palm left it, tearing for the ground . . . 

  
  


Or rather, would have, if it were not deflected at the last instant by two meddling Saiyans . . . 

  
  


It was curious, to look upon himself in his own dream. He and Kakarott looked tired, strained. He remembered the feeling well, having experienced it firsthand when he'd gone through this in reality. They almost didn't get it away in time. Almost . . . 

  
  


Alien emotion filled him. Childish, innocent, yet totally rotten. Obviously the feelings of Kid Buu, Vegeta was nonetheless washed away by the righteous anger at the impertinence, the audacity of anyone who would stand up to him, to get in the way of HIS fun.

  
  


DIE!

  
  


The only coherent thought in his head as he powered up even more, this should definitely destroy them this time. Oh, yes! He watched, exultant as the monstrous energy flew out, engulfing everything, the two pitiful Saiyans. losing ground, HA, there went their friends, vaporized by his might ohgoodygoodytheyweregoingtodienownownowdiediedie!

  
  


He was suddenly himself again, on a battlefield. Buu was gone. He registered this only faintly, as he noticed his surroundings. A ruined city, a storm brewing . . . He recognized this place . . . 

  
  


East Capital City.

  
  


Most of it was a large crater now, but here, on the outskirts, it was worse. The dragonballs had never been used to fix this, the herald of Nappa and his' arrival on Earth. Vegeta had visited this place recently, had gone to one of the more ruined looking sections. Most of the bodies from that attack had been recovered now, many years later, but collapsed buildings and many possessions had been left behind in the wake. A broken television here, an abandoned toy there, doors and windows shattered. Here and there, one the walls, you could even make out the charred outline of a vaporized body or two from those lucky enough to have caught the blast full force and not be crushed by collapsing rubble or suffocate when the outrushing air sucked the very oxygen from their lungs.

  
  


He looked up, seeing himself, charging that blast meant for the planet Arlia, now mysteriously here. He hung his head, emotionally tired and not caring anymore, focusing on a child's toy, some type of stuffed animal. Detached from the brightening light that signified oncoming death, Vegeta pondered on how a child's playing could have survived all this. He saw the massive fireball coming down, reflected in one button eye on the toy. Brighter and brighter. _Too bright . . . _

  
  


He awoke, but not with a jerk. Years of sleeping under combat conditions had taught him to remain still, to give the impression of continuing sleep. That skill had saved him on more than one occasion working with Frieza's flunkies . . . Maintaining his position next to the woman, he thought about the dream . . . 

  
  


Most beings in the universe would have been horrified by all the imagery, unsettled by the implication of your own mind pointing yourself out as an unfeeling killing machine. Vegeta was not like most beings. He _knew_ he was an unfeeling killing machine. Besides, it helped that this was hardly the first time he'd had this dream. Since coming back to life, he'd had this dream every other night. It only bothered him because it interrupted his sleep cycle too often for his tastes.

  
  


He was familiar with the human emotion of remorse, but knew it to be a futile emotion. What else was he going to be but a destroyer, raised in Frieza's army and a son of the Saiyan race, in that order. As much as he hated to admit it, he had little concept of real Saiyan ideals and beliefs. The race and planet were destroyed when he was very young, and Nappa had always kowtowed to him and his superior power, never correcting the young Vegeta, much less filling him in on the finer points of Saiyan culture and mores. And Vegeta was hardly going to ask, either.

  
  


Sometimes, he did regret that. In some ways, he and Kakarott were the last scions of the Saiyan race. In another way, though, the race was already dead, condemned when Frieza, the dealer of planets and death, snuffed their world out in an instant. Just like Buu, years later, murdering many planets all in the name of fun . . . 

  
  


And to think that he'd once lusted after Frieza's position in the cosmos . . . 

  
  


Frieza was dead, his mind stated firmly, shaking off the effects of the dream now and going it's own direction. Frieza was dead, but his empire was not. Any empire the size of Frieza's was much larger than any one being, despite that one being's power. Vegeta would never know how the Earth had managed to avoid the grip of the Empire as long as it had, but that would not last forever. Others would come, that much was certain...

  
  


Consigned to the fact that sleep was going to elude him for yet another night, Vegeta rose, careful to keep the woman from stirring. While on the one hand, he cursed himself for his softness in considering her feelings in the matter, Vegeta justified it to himself in that she would only badger him into insanity if she were awake and seeing him about at this hour.

  
  


Walking past the residence quarters of the Capsule Corporation building, Vegeta walked out, into the late summer night. The Terran season of Autumn would be here soon, which suited him just fine. All this greenery and life... too extravagant. Only one thing could clear his mind when it got into these fits of introspective thought...

  
  


Stepping into the Gravity Room, Vegeta set it for his normal level of 450g. Of course, the apparent mass would take time to ramp up, like most high energy devices, the Room needed to charge up first, the gravity building slowly over several minutes.

  
  


It truly was an extraordinary accomplishment, the Gravity Room. These devices had existed in Frieza's army, but they worked on a principle of generating brute gravity, which affected everything in the room. As a result, you could only go so high before the pressure would cause the surrounding air to condense and liquify, so only warriors with no need for oxygen (like Frieza) could use them. Vegeta was no scientist, but he understood enough to know that Dr. Briefs (and to some extent his daughter, Bulma) thought a little... differently from the minds in Frieza's think tanks.

  
  


Dr. Brief's Gravity room was selective in which objects the monstrous forces would apply. Early versions would only affect the weight of solid objects, like the one Kakarrot used on his way to Namek. Later revisions would only affect the training participants, allowing for less energy consumption overall, and, more importantly, for things like gravitational collapse and liquid air to be a nonissue for those training inside. The only concern was being able to stand and move inside of the room without your body giving out in the process...

  
  


Doing basic exercises to warm up, Vegeta considered a little more. Better Gravity Rooms, time machines, and the namesake Capsules... While their overall technology was still primitive, they were going in some interesting directions with it. A few more generations, and they could very well take on Frieza's army should it ever find this place. Vegeta chuckled lightly under his breath. Perhaps things weren't so bad for his adoptive home, after all...

  
  


He didn't think much for a while after that, losing himself into the training, he transformed into the Super Saiyan mode, at last free from distractions for a while, at least...

  
  


* * *

  
  


He crashed out of his transformation suddenly, without warning. Vegeta, caught completely unawares, fell hard into the floor of the gravity room, over 40 tons heavy. The abrupt change, combined with the graceless fall, almost caused him to pass out from the shock. Raising to his knees, he called out "Off!", activating the voice sensor, and, as a result, cutting off the focused gravitational field. 

  
  


He surveyed himself. Other than bruises and what felt like a sore jaw from his awkward fall, Vegeta felt fine. At least physically. He closed his eyes, focusing inward, on his energy. Something was wrong. Something was _off_. He had no explanation for it, though. Concentrating, Vegeta brought his power up, trying to transform into the legendary Super Saiyan form.

  
  


He felt the energy consume him, saw the light from his aura, but it was difficult--hard to sustain. This was much harder than it should have been, Vegeta thought, concern beginning to fill his mind. Distracted, he fell out of the form again. _This is not good,_ thought the Prince of all Saiyans. Looking back at the Capsule Corp. building, Vegeta thought about rousing the woman to find some answers to this. He quickly dismissed the notion as futile, though. Even after all these years of his residence on Earth, human science knew little about Saiyan physiology. Of course, Bulma and her father were mechanical engineers, not biologists... What would they know, anyway?

  
  


He was in the air heading southeast before he had consciously decided where to go. He needed to see Kakarott, posthaste. If one were to ask him, Vegeta would be hard pressed to come up with a good reason for why he was going there of all places. Kakarott was an imbecile, and knew even less about the Saiyans than he did. All the same, he was the only person Vegeta felt comfortable bringing this disturbing development to. Keeping low to the ground, just in case any other unwelcome surprises decided to appear, he continued on, uncertainty on his mind...

  
  


  
  


Author's note: What do you know? I finally get to a plot point... Here's hoping that I can be more frequent with the updates, now... Remember, good readers always review, even if they don't have much to say. Thanks for reading!


	7. The Alpha and the Omega

Hey, Everybody!

It's been a long time (9 months? Wow...) since I've updated... I haven't dropped this story, but I have had a busy life since my last update. I work two jobs now, and I recently moved... Things have stabilized a bit now, and I want to get back to writing again. Please review and let me know if anyone still cares...

And now, my new chapter. I want to thank the good people at VAAL for previewing this for me and giving me a few suggestions I may use in future chapters...

Share and enjoy!

Aftermath, Chapter 7

The Alpha and the Omega

_Ommmmm . . . _

To many religions and races in tune with the harmony of the universe, this was the sound of everything. If you were to find a vantage point 'above' everything and listen to it all at once, this is the sound you would hear . . .

_Ommmmm . . . _

Such a point does exist out there. A sacred realm, a sacred world. Removed in any spatial sense from anything involving this life or the afterlife, it was above it, and at the same time, connected to them all . . .

_Ommmmm . . . _

To most people of the universe, that was all they heard. A dull, pleasing drone, little more than background noise, not even consciously, just a tickle, in the back of the mind. Nothing most sentient beings could make any sense of . . .

Kaioshin's could.

It was the primary responsibility of any good deity to listen. Not necessarily to the beings under them so much as the infinite hum of the universe. It was expressed in many ways. The silence of a forest. In the static of a communication relay. The background radiation of space itself. Much like that background radiation, or static, or silence, there is information there, stories to tell. One simply must be able to sense that delicate data . . .

Kaioshin's could.

One such was doing so right now. He was old, hearkening from an age long past any other sentient being currently existing. Trapped in a sword for fifteen generations (which for a Kaioshin could be millions, perhaps billions of years), he had emerged into a universe much less innocent than the one he'd departed so long ago. Much more complicated, too. He had been one of the first, back in an age when magic was at it's climax of power, in the distant past, and races were only beginning to discover the principles of logic and science that would later supplant magic as the source of most knowledge . . .

But that was neither here nor there. The past was past. Too late, and besides, the universe was still standing, albeit only a fraction of what it used to be. That was the problem with Kaioshins. Being spiritually linked to bits of the universe meant that when they died, so did that part of the universe. Stars didn't form, civilizations died. Whole star clusters descended to chaos. It wasn't immediate, though. Galaxies are much too large to die in an instant. It took millions of years for those stars to die and those worlds to dim.

Again, this was all in the past, and it, too, could not be changed . . .

_Ommmmm . . . _

These were all musings, of course, thoughts that went through the Old Kaioshin's mind as he concentrated on his primary task in front of him. The fusion Kaibito sat before him, deep in meditation. The supreme god focused his abilities, exerting himself to the utmost, to unlock the young godling's power.

The welp had never been properly trained in the ways of the Kaioshin's, of course, and the Old Kaioshin only had a millennium left to live, so he had to resort to this quick and dirty method to get things started. On the one hand, it was very similar to the power up he gave Gohan, a method to unlock all of Kaibito's hidden potential, great indeed given that he was a fusion of two potentially powerful deities. It went beyond the mere augmentation of strength, though. Soon, this would the only Kaioshin left again, alone in the ruling of all existence, and the elder considered it his duty to train this one properly this time. The universe had fended for itself for long enough. That meant doing his best to bestow the mystical powers inherent to himself to his successor. It wouldn't be complete, of course... the Elder's powers came from an ancient and powerful sorceress with a terminal case of sticky fingers. Kaibito didn't have that advantage, but, as a magical being, he could probably learn a few good techniques that would help in his management of existence.

The process went on. Days on end had passed, which, of course, for gods is a mere blink of an eye. The universe had managed ostensibly for several million years on it's own as the former East Kaioshin had hunted down Buu almost single mindedly. It could get by for a few weeks more . . .

Eventually, it was done. Without a word, the Old Kaioshin got to his feet and walked to his crystal ball, out in the grass. It was an idyllic place, Kaioshin Kai, the Planet of the Kais. There had once been several, but, with the passing of the others, this was all that was left. As if knowing this, the eternal beauty of this sanctuary of the gods seemed to strive to make up for that, every bit of it more precious than any jewel or valuable in the mortal universe. It was a nice place to live.

And better on his sinuses, too. He had caught hay fever from their brief stay on the New Planet Namek. He shuddered at that. God's shouldn't get allergies. It must be that cursed witch's fault.

_Ommmmmmm..._

Kaibito got up, as well, flexing his arms, taking in his new strength. Finally, he spoke.

"Revered Elder, pardon my questioning, but I don't feel that much more powerful than I did before," he said, confused.

"Of course, you don't. You were never meant to be a warrior, you know. You're a Kaioshin. Your power comes from other abilities, ones that I've begun to awaken in you now, that will help you infinitely more when the time comes than mere strength, though you do have a bit of that. Besides, your power exceeds that of every Kaioshin and Dai Kaioshin that has existed before. What more can you ask for?

"It doesn't exceed Buu's at his maximum." The Kaioshin said this with a bit of resentment. _Stupid Child! __I'm going to teach you to be above such things, boy!_ The Elder thought, irritated slightly at the petulant reply.

"And why should it? Buu is gone, and you're the strongest immortal being in existence. The Saiyans will eventually fade from prominence and take their place as legends for future generations to aspire to. And meanwhile, you'll be here, the highest in the universe..." The old god started to stamp off, muttering, as all elder beings do, of the impatience and impertinence of youth. Suddenly, though, he stopped, dead in his tracks, eyes unfocused, as he centered on something. It was a mere second, but it was enough to arouse Kaibito's concern. "Elder, are you well?" the Fusion called, grasping an arm to keep the other from falling onto the ground.

The elder merely shrugged it off. "Of course, I'm fine. I may be old, but I'm not senile just yet. I merely realized something that I need you to do."

"Yes, anything, sir," the younger one fawned.

"I've been feeling out the universe, trying to get a sense of what needs to be taken care of in the mortal realm. Right now, there is a creature that will soon threaten the Northern Galaxy. Created with ancient magic." Sensing the horror in his protégé's face, he quickly added, "Not on the level of Buu, at least not now. The creature is in halves imprisoned in some kind of musical implement... Wait, what am I doing, just come here!" With that, he cupped his hand to Kaibito's ear, immediately telling him everything he knew about the monster Hirudegarn, Hoi and the Black Magicians. What could have been many minutes of explanation was reduced to seconds through the amazing power of telepathy.

Removing his hand, the Old Kaioshin continued. "I simply need you to ensure that Hirudegarn does not become a threat to the civilized societies of the universe. After Buu, defeating a Black Magician should be a cakewalk. I used to do it all the time back in the old days... back before I fused with one, anyways..." The elderly Kai mumbled the last under his breath. "Anyway, it's time you started taking an active role in the care-taking of this universe, and this would be a good first exercise. Deal with it however you wish, just remember to keep the mortals out of it. They've been traumatized enough lately."

With just a nod of acknowledgment, Kaibito simply teleported away, to search out the location of one of the two magical music boxes containing the cursed monster Hirudegarn.

_Good, I thought he'd never leave_, thought the elderly Kaioshin _Finding that thing and dealing with it should keep him busy for a while_.

"Now to take care of some work of my own," he said to no one in particular. To the outside perspective, it would have immediately seemed that the Old Kaioshin promptly sat to the ground and fell asleep. In a manner of speaking, this was true. The old Fusion wasn't responding to his immediate surroundings anymore. His mind was somewhere else, or rather, everywhere else, focusing upon one small, unregarded yellow sun far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the western spiral arm of the Northern Galaxy. Orbiting this at a distance of roughly ninety-two million miles is an utterly insignificant little blue-green planet which had, through no fault of it's own, had become quite important to recent events in it's galactic neighborhood.

The old Kaioshin could see more than that, though. Things were going to happen here, soon, things that would affect many of those whom Kaibito had recently formed an affinity for. He would almost certainly try to interfere with it.

That could not be allowed.

The Elder Kai liked the beings on this world as well. They were good people, for the most part, and meant well. But change comes to all, good or evil. It was not their place to step in, only to watch. To watch and maintain. Not to be heroes. Not to interfere except under the most dire circumstances...

At least, it had been that way back in his day.

Making a note to keep an eye on things here, he resumed his watch of the Cosmos...

_Ommmmmmm....._

**Yay!, another chapter in the can. This was short, but hopefully interesting. For you considerate readers out there, here's the part where you're supposed to review. (Yeah, I'm a needy... so what?) Have a nice day, and, hopefully, I'll be updating again, soon...**

**Bonzo the Fifth**


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